


Part Time Job

by Actress20_Naomi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Inner Dialogue, Jealous John, Johnlock - Freeform, Lapdance, M/M, Military John Watson, Pining John, Possessive John, Private stripper, Seductuve Sherlock, Sexual Roleplay, Stripper Sherlock, Teacher-Student Relationship, Touching, escalated to fast, finally posted!, gripping, johnlock happeing, more to come - Freeform, serious talk, written is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-12 04:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actress20_Naomi/pseuds/Actress20_Naomi
Summary: Sherlock is sinful as he makes a devil's deal with his teacher, Mr. Doctor.





	1. Just what I needed

**Author's Note:**

> Before anything... EVERY CHARACTER IS THE GAE WE SEE IN THE SHOW. Above 30!!! 
> 
> Now I know it kinda has a while, but my mid was dry on ideas. Sorry. I hope you like it. Love you all. 
> 
> No proof-read.

“Sherlock” I called out. The whole class became quite and turned around to look at him. The only kid behind the class. 

“What do you think about the lecture. Any comments?” I ask. I know he doesn’t talk a lot, but that is what I want for him to break. He has an amazing brain and he is not using it. Sometimes it bothers me, so because I sort of have the upper hand here, I make him participate. He doesn’t answer for a couple seconds then opens his mouth, as if he was going to say something. 

“Christopher Columbus was an ambitious conquistador, who only focused on his satisfaction.” His voice bounces up the walls and around the classroom. His deep, raw voice was intoxicatingly delicious. 

“Hm, yes. Building on what you said, he was indeed a conquistador. Whos’ supporting goal was to spread…” My voice lower harshly, but I don’t notice, because my eyes landed on his lips. God! Those perfect bow lips are sure admirable. 

“Christianity?” Sherlock finished my sentence. I come back to earth and pull my shoulders back into place, as to reposition myself. I had to look away from his lips and face before I can make another mistake infant of my class.

“Yes, thank you,” I respond. In my table behind me, there is a pile of papers. Homework. 

“Ok, everyone. Class over,” I announce, almost immediately, all the students pick their binders and stuff them into their bags; Making my voice the last sound in the classroom, “Pick up one package on your way out!” I said loudly. Only 60% of the classroom looked at me, acknowledge it and turned back to their conversations, “Homework!” I shouted. Now the whole class turned to look at me. I let a small laugh leave my lips, I shake my head and repeat, “Pick one up on your way out. Due Friday.” 

One by one walk out of the room, picking up the paper. To no surprise, Sherlock is the last one to leave the class. Always behind the crowd. I stop him as an impulse. A small panic spreads over my body. ‘Why did I do that?! My body may be wanting something.’ I stop for half a seconds and thanks to my fast thinking, I come up with something to say. 

“Sherlock that was really a brilliant observation you did there. You should express your ideas more often.” I say, surprised to the interesting comment my brain formulated in just seconds. Sherlock looks at me with his blue eyes and I could really melt right now. I mentally thank my military years for not letting me grow up to be a fragile bisexual man. 

“Had a rough night?” Sherlock asks, regarding the topic completely. But what most surprised me is the accuracy of his deduction. I did have a bad night yesterday. My commander is practically threating me to re-enter the army service. My reaction must've given me away.

“Hm. Your eye bags are bigger than usual and that coffee is your third this morning.” Sherlock deduces in a heartbeat. ‘GOD does he even breathe?!!!?!?!?!’ I don’t know where to look. But I know what and how he knows. I give him a sharp nod and ask, “How did you reach that conclusion?” It's always enlightening to listen to his thought process. 

“Your marks on your right sleeve tells me, the three cups of coffee and under all that cologne, the smell of sweat and alcohol persists,” Sherlock responds with the most casual voice for someone who just deciphers a whole night of misery with only two of his senses. We just stand there looking at each other in surprise, yet it was the most casual thing to do. 

“Are we finished?” Sherlock asks in annoyance. I don’t want to get him mad and lose the small trust we have in each other, because I am pretty sure no one else in this college has the bravery to talk to him. 

“Yes, you can go now,” I say, moving away from his path towards the door. Sherlock’s eyes don’t look apart from mine on his way to the door and I can almost feel a heat starting on my cheeks. He opens the doors and leaves. I walk back to my desk and analyze what he just said. WHOA is all I could manage to think. HOW COULD HE POSSIBLY KNOW ABOUT ALL THAT WITH JUST ONE GLANCE?!?! 

My thought is interrupted by the alarm on my phone that reads, “Commander Meeting.” I look down to it and my eyebrow automatically raises. My brain moves Sherlock's brilliant deductions to a side and focuses on the heating meeting I am going to have in an hour. I take a deep breath and start organizing my desk, picking up the books and papers I need to take home and work on, to put them in my bag. Last night, like Sherlock brilliantly deduced, was horrible. I got into a fight with my general in the army base. And now, I have been reported to my higher commander. As I walk out of my classroom, there are the usual kids playing and talking, I walk past them like a ghost. Outside of the school building, my car is parked in the best spot in the school, because it's safe from athletes students and its close to the main door. It's actually quite a pleasure to see my car. Its electric blue, BMW, the power of thirty horses, and automatic parking. I get on my car and turn it on. My brain is processing all the possible outcomes of this meeting. One: I get fired. Two: I get level down. Three: His sentiment would get the best of him and would let me go. I actually think the second and third option is more possible. 

~~~~

Jesus Christ! UGH, how I hate him. The meeting started off ok, but as time went on, he started to passively insult me, and not just insult me, us. I and my commander have a little background story. But it's not important. He actually threatens me that he will take my teaching job and my house if I don’t fix what happened last night with the weaponry room. It wasn’t even my fault! It was my partner. He was the idiot who thought that smoking in that goddamed room is ok. My anger spread across my body and out of the sudden everything is hot. I know it is not good to drive angry, but I need to get this anger out somehow. I press in the petal hard and the car leaves wheels mark in the concrete floor. The air from my window blast in my face, which is actually helpful to the heat in me. Where should I go? OH! Where do I normally go to get drinks and pass down this discussion. My favorite bar/ stripper club. “Leopards” My hands' muscles take control and takes me directly to the bar I have been millions of time before. I'm getting closer and from the distance, I can see the light are off and the door is closed. 

“Fuck” I curse under my breath. my mind is already focused on the alcohol down my throat and its begging for it. Then I remembered that un bar/ strip club I used to go and it's not very far. My feet press on the petal and the car runs. The thing about this club is that its gay. Straight up gay. Well, maybe bi but that point is that I used to go there and it was the best. But I stopped going because my general found me there and reported to me. I promised to go not to go back there again, but right now, I need a man. 

Luckily, it's open. The stars are out, it every dark and the lights outside the door are welcoming me in. I find parking after the third round around the block. Almost in a hurry, I take out the keys, open the door and close it forcefully, making the side of my jacket get stuck. 

“Shit” I curse in response. I had to maneuver my body to turn around and open my car door to let my jacket free. I walk away from my car into the building. The first thing that popped out into my eyes, where the difference from the last time he was here. Before it was a light, sexy, quite calm. But now, it was mostly dark except for the bar lights and the strip pole, it was sure still sexy actually, it would now fall into the hot category. The chill was the major switch, now it was more of excimer and adrenaline. A small smile comes out at the precision of my needs. I go the bar and order a whiskey on the rocks and a twist on top, my all times favorite. The barista winked at me and started to do it in front of me. He was defiantly handsome, but not my type. After a whole show of making my drink, he gives me the cup and a napkin under it. As I walk to find a chair near the stage, I notice the numbers on the napkin. A phone number. I laugh out a little and under my breath. I was defiantly not going to call him, but it was nice to know I still go it. 

There were multiple expectants around the circular stage waiting for the gorgeous stranger to dance for them. It won’t take a while, because the stripper must've seen how required he was. I take a sip from my drink and OH MY GOD it was exactly what I needed. Before I take another sip, I turn around to look for any member of the school or my arms base that could report me. I find no one. The bar is filled with flirting men and a couple of them making out in the corner. I turn around and I find the lights going around and around, letting everyone know the show was about to start. Before it starts, I take the large sip out of my whiskey. Mostly necessary. I sit back into my chair, which wasn’t quite in the front but had a good view. The doors on the back of the stage opened and a fucking amazing body came out. He was thin, but muscular and had some fucking fantastic curls. His cheekbones were sexy as fuck. 

All the man around him moved forward on their sits and started to whistle and shout out sexy complements, along with explicit comments. The stripper didn’t seem to care or mind them at all. The guy in front of me was partly big, blocking my view. I shift in my chair to find a new angle to appreciate the show. Once I find the right angle is the exact moment I and he make eye contact. That face has been in front of me before. 

My eyes open in surprise and my eyebrows frown, but there is a small smile that I can’t kill, “Sherlock?!”


	2. Pretty Wide Comfort Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep those request coming! Some (most would start to come up in the next chaper)   
> Also... the WARMING feedback...(keep in mind I am a sensible ass and I can handles much)
> 
> Love you all

My voice wasn’t loud enough for him to me. He kept moving his hips and his body in the most smooth, carefully way. My impulses are telling me that I should walk away because this is a hundred times more inappropriate than what went through my brain during class. But then… I want to see him. NO. NO. No, this is wrong. I need to go…. Or I could stay and hide in the back row. But… that body, how it moves. 

“Delicious,” I whisper. The word came out of my mouth without my consent. The gigantic man sitting in front of me heard me and turned around to look at me. 

“Hell yea. I'm going to try and shag that tonight.” He responded. Taking me by surprise and I shag my body backward. Something happened to my body, everything tightened and my heart beat skyrocket, and some sort of jealousy or anger speeded around my body. I wonder why. My fist, in a millisecond, tightens and brakes the glass of whiskey I had on my hand shattering into the ground. I only notice it when the pain in my hand resembles around my body. But there is still some anger in me. The next thing I know, I was grabbing the man from his shirt and throwing him to the floor. He started to curse at me and I cursed back. 

“You fucking maniac. What is your problem?!” He yelled. 

“You are my problem. So you are going to shag THAT tonight!” I exposed him as loud as my lungs allowed, reapiting the words he said. His face turned tomato red. Everyone was looking at us now. Even Sherlock. 

“For starters, he has a beautiful name. His name is Sherlock Holmes.” I continued. My voice was still intense and hard. I could hear the people around me say his name like it was some sort of ritual. But then I heard a different name coming from the stage. 

“Mr. Watson?” I head a whispering from Sherlock's delicate lips. 

“Sherlock?” The man on the floor responded. 

“Yes.” My ears were starting to burn, for the heat of the moment had passed and the embarrassment started to sink in.

“Well, that is a difficult name to moan.” The man on the floor said. As if that were the magic phrase for my adrenaline to reactivate. I shouted in anger. 

“AHHSLKDMAHHHHH—“ I screamed. Jumping over my the chair, ready to give this guy some most needed punches. But before I could even reach his disgusting face, there were guards pulling me back. The blood in my hand made everything even more dramatic. When I was in a safe distance from him, my arms tightly together behind me folded by some guard, the man responded.

“Well, it was you who called him delicious in the first place.” The man, who was now standing up, exposed me. The adrenaline went down in a heartbeat. I have never been more embarrassed by saying what I like. Sherlock looked at me, with the most interesting eyes I have ever seen him put. Before I go into fists with the man on the floor, the two guards behind me grabbed my arms tightly and let to the door. I could use my military knowledge to get out, with the amount of alcohol I had on my bloodstream and the glass bits in my hand, there wasn’t really much I do. The guards took me to the door and threw me to the street like in the movies. For a second, I stayed there, in the ground processing everything I just saw. Sherlock being a stripper for a gay club, does that mean he was gay or bi? The fight with that man, just because he said he was going to have sex with him tonight, does that mean I am jealous? 

“What the fuck, John.” I cursed my self under my breath. A small laugh came out of me. This is actually what I needed, some adrenaline working through my veins and the view of someone I like. I slowly and painfully stood up, because my hand and my knees still hurt. As I made my way to the car, I started to wonder… HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DEAL WITH THIS AT SCHOOL TOMORROW?!?! 

 

Surprisingly, I was able to drive, correctly, with one hand. I made it home, with no one expecting me, and went into the shower to wash off all the shit that just happened, It was now 12 pm and I was just laying on my bed, thinking how to talk this out with Sherlock. He is a shy kid, he will not come back with the fact that I called his delicious…. But he is not as shy as I think, to be a stripper, you must have a pretty wide comfort zone. But then the images of his body dancing around that pole and the way his skin shined as his hips made sinful turns. A pool of heat started to grow in my bottom belly. My hand made a flinch to move and satisfy my brain’s wants. But it would be extremely inappropriate to do it while thinking of a student. So I just let it cool down as I got under the soft, white covers of my bed. 

I woke up a bit past my normal time, which means I will have to be faster today. While I’m making my breakfast, my brain is overflowed with ideas on how to tell Sherlock that he should quit that job and get himself a decent one. Many of my ideas meant to have a very awkward pause in between, and that is what I wanted to avoid. So as I walked out my building I had come down to one way. But this way was the boring teacher way, yet I know I had to do it because If I don’t then Sherlock would end up wasting his amazing brain to the spectators. 

I made it to the school in time thanks to the lack of traffic there was today. I had Sherlock first period, which was actually better because if I had him later on the day, I would teach my other classes pure rubbish. As I entered my classroom I find my first-period class already sitting int he desks and waiting for me in silence. I froze, as they looked at me very seriously. I look at everyone around the class and see Sherlock sitting up straight, with his book open and a small smile on his face. 

“What?” I ask quite loudly and confused. The moment I say that everyone is the room brakes their blank faces and laughs out loud. Their laughs are so contagious, it gets to me and makes me laugh along with them. Sherlock is the only one who doesn’t laugh like the others, he just looks at the others with a face of 'taking mental note for every each of them'. My class does this sort of stuff every day. They are the clown class, always making jokes and laughs. But this class also had multiple Albert Einsteins, like Sherlock. The rest of the class flowed with ease. I made no eye contact nor conversation with Sherlock. I still find it quite awkward to talk to him, but I know I have to talk to him at the end of the class. That I have to do. Before I ended the class, I pull a poster paper in the glass of the door, blocking the view from outside. Internally, I made it so that when I have to talk to Sherlock, others would not look and start to make up stories. HA my trust issues goes all the way back to my military days. Even though Im teaching, I own a year course. My brain avoided that door of knowledge and came back to my teaching room. As I made the last annulment for the class and dismissing them, my hands stared to feel cold and sweaty. As always I stand in the door, being polite and saying goodbye to all my students. One by one left my room and as always Sherlock is the last. Once the last kid is gone, I close the door and walk over to him. He is sitting in his desk, looking all innocent and totally-not-a-stipper. I somewhat hope for him to start the conversation. 

“Sherlock,” I start. He looks up with his dark ocean eyes and at the instant all the words in my mouth disintegrate. Leaving us in some awkward eye contact. Sherlock partly opens his perfect his bow shaped lips to say something and…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your kudos and comments.


	3. Devil's deal

"Thank you." Sherlock said. I have to admit, I did not expected that. It was the first time I've ever heard Sherlock say thank you before. This two words had a different pitch in his voice, compared to the words he usually say. I wonder if he has ever said that you to anyone else. 

I stay dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before I ask, "For what?" I walk towards his table and lean on the one parallel to his. 

Sherlock tilts his head to one side, looking at me like I should know why. He lets a couple of seconds hang in the air before answering, "For standing up for me. No one has ever done that before." I instantly feel pity towards him. There's an awkward silences in the air. I had no idea what respond. Hmmmm.

I, finally say, "Well, he was being disrespectful." 

"You get used to it --" Sherlock almost continues, but stops all of the sudden. The silence gets a little more comfortable. I feel this is the right time to say what is meant to be said. 

"Sherlock..." I start, but Sherlock interrupt me.

"Yes, I know what you are going to say. And my answer is," He pauses, "I like it. Except the catcalling of course, but other than that, I like dancing and the way I move my body." He started to speak in a deeper voice, a sort of seductuve voice. His eyes got a deeper shade and his lips started to move in a carefully way as he spoke. My lips suddenly felt dry so I slowly licked them. At the moment I did this, Sherlock gets up from his seat and leans back on his table, parallel of me. Our knees almost touching. 

"And apparently so do you." Sherlock finishes his sentence. I, in embarrassment, look down and try to hide the smile that was growing In my face to the obvious fact.

"He lied." I lied. As I look up Sherlock appeared to have moved closer to me. The heat in my face has gotten deeper and I run the risk of Sherlock finding out the truth. 

"For god sake John!" Sherlock exclaims, "You are red as a tomato," My name has never sounded so good.

I let out a laugh, but then I remember to get myself together and tell Sherlock what he need to do. 

"Sherlock! To the point" I clear my throat to show Sherlock I'm serious, "You have to quit that job... Or I will have to report you and the program will have to expel you." My voice becomes dark and professional. Sherlock's face is still with a slight smug expression, like what I just said entered through one ear and left through the other one. 

"Delicious is the word you used." Sherlock says, bringing the embarrassment back. 

"Sherlock. So your going to quit that job." My voice trembles as Sherlock takes a step closer.

"You could've stayed and enjoy the show." Sherlock was now so over the line. His hands on both side of my body, resting on the table, trapping me in between. His face closer to mine than it was ever been. All his features resemble. Those cheekbones and those lips with those eyes... Who wouldn't stayed and enjoy the show. 

"I'm going to report you Sherlock." My voice becomes soft and shaky, absolutely nothing like a threat.

"You wouldn't." Sherlock answered in an almost whisper.

"Why not?" I continued the conversation, keeping it interesting.

"Because it cannot be a coincidence that I too find you delicious." Sherlock answered, as he finally got so close to me that we were practically breathing the same air. His own smell blooming out, into me like the smoke from a fire.

"Sherlock," I wishper. But his curls were pressed against my face and his lips on my ear. 

"I'll make you a deal." Sherlock teased. I gulped silently as his hands on both sides grabbed mine and pull them into him, leaving them holding his hipbones. A small but warm shiver spread though my body. God! It felt so good. 

I could loose myself in his touch, but his voice brought me back, as he said, "I'll quit but only if you accept me as your private stripper." I gasped which made all my body react, as a result I gripped possessively his hipbones. The "p"'s in his words are now much more defined and bold, sending a warm shiver across me.

"Oh god yes" I answered. And as if those were the magic words, Sherlock's fine lips stared kissing my neck, but I instead of a careful kiss, his lips ravished the skin in my neck. His hands grabed on my hips, as a reflex my hands moved up his body to his torso. My whole hands could surround his whole body in one. I pull him closer.

"You have a class outside waiting," Sherlock finally said after what felt like a lifetime in heaven. I wish he could stay. I rather loved the way he was kissing me, even though it is not in my lips, but just the felling of him all for me is satisfied get enough. 

"I'm not going to be able to teach now." I respond as he was pulling away. I'm able to see his feature again, although I do rather them against me. Our hands were still on each other, gripping possessively. 

"The students won't concentrate either way." Sherlock sass came out, with his I-know it-all-voice. What bothers me about it is how right he always is. 

"You do." I responds, making him the most important. 

"I do." Sherlock admits, before adding, "When you don't have a hickey on your neck." I gaps and look at him with a mixture of damn and more please and this makes you so damn sexy.

"Sherlock!" I exclaim. Im forced to remove my hands from his torso and try to cover the hickey with my shirt, but I know the collar is too low to cover it. Sherlock's hands are still in my body, which I appreciate one hundred percent.

"Just wear one of your sexy jumpers." Sherlock responds, marking the word sexy with his eyebrows and his deductive voice. I smile and tilt my head towards him. His hands leave my body. Now that space in my hips are cold and... I don't appreciate that. There is a salience hanging in between us. This silence is much different than the other one we had at the beginning of this UNEXPECTED turn of events. Sherlock is moving away from me now, moving towards his bag-pack. I know it's crazy but I already need him to hold and touch me.

"What now?" I ask, wanting to hang on the conversation. I really don't want him to leave.

"Well, when do you want your first show?" Sherlock responds and my face lightens. I'm in so much need of him yet it has only been 10 minutes. 

"ASAP" I answer quickly with the truth.

"Tonight. Your apartment." Sherlock states the time and place at once. Our eyes connect and there was something in the ocean blue in his eyes that I haven't seen before, something like... want and desire. Then, I quickly question, HOW THE HELL DOES HE KNOWS WHERE I LIVE? By then again, he practically knows everything. 

As if I was thinking out loud, Sherlock finishes off saying, "Don't worry about it."

Before he leaves, he places his palm on my thigh and squeezes it to show dominance. I react to his touch by letting out a relief... Sigh that sounded more like a moan. I don't really care, because Sherlock just gave me a desire smile that intoxicated the air with his intentions. 

"Later, sexy." Sherlock walks away from me, towards the door.

But before he closes the door to my classroom, he turns back and ask, "what's your favorite color?" 

Taking me by shock, I respond with an impulse, "pink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your kudos and comments


	4. "...in bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has me so damn saddd.... GUYS... I CANT WRITEEEE.... I don't know what is happening to me, but I can't write like before... It's killing me, because before, writing was my way to escape and now it just a stress origin. But anyway, I noticed that I haven't posted in like FOREVER so this is what I have so far... hope you get to the end

I like the pink… and blue… and purple… practically my pride flag. I wasn’t able to concentrate much after what happened this morning, and I was the one teaching! I recorded… twenty students correcting me this whole day. God! It was so embarrassing. But it was all because I had Sherlock planted in my mind, I couldn’t get him off. His scent intoxicated my brain, bringing only his features to memory, his cheekbones, and his mystical eyes were a portal to my sweet heaven. Then the feel of his lips grabbing on my skin, send a shiver down my body. The train of thoughts is interrupted by a loud horn coming from one side of the street. 

“Watch it, dude,” The driver screamed and drove away. So I’m standing in the middle of the street, shocked. If I keep thinking about Sherlock like that, I’m not going to be alive to see him again. Coming back to earth, I start to walk again, but now I’m more alert of my surroundings. Its only 30 minutes from the program to my house. The sky is the most beautiful at this time. It has the right colors of pink and orange, giving a warm feeling to the air. I’m a block away from my house now, my mind is still with the bright picture of Sherlock in front of me. But I'm walking slower to enjoy it and to not get hit by another car. 

I open the door of my house and throw the keys to the table next to the door. I stand in front of the first mirror of the house, noticing my messed up hair and the wrinkled shirt and then the slight purple marl on my neck. I laugh under my breath because I got Sherlock to do that to me and the fact that he is coming here today is making my smile grow a thousand times bigger. I drop off my bag on the side and walk towards the bathroom. I do need a bath to welcome him fresh and clean. But as I am getting into the shower, I start to think, ‘what if I get caught? What if this is just a bloody experiment? Or what if my commander finds out?… Well, to be honest, that would be a relief, because I really cannot stand him anymore, and anyway I'm just there because I own a year for misbehaving. But still!’ The thoughts were rushing through my brain, stopping me to take a normal, calm bath. I ended staying in the bathroom for almost 20 minutes. But, by the time I got out of the bath, I had run the pros and cons in my brain almost ten times and I have decided to stop this and do the right thing. Its really disappointing because I really want him, but the law and my profession could go to hell, if he was just playing, and I know Sherlock doesn’t play, but there is still a possibility of that happening. I get changed into my comfortable jumper and a jean… definitely not looking for Sherlock to be interested in me, but just because I want to be presentable. I turn on the kettle and start to organize my apartment. It was 6 pm when I finished cleaning and I was sitting on the sofa with my cuppa, watching the telly… well trying, I was internally impatient to see if Sherlock actually shows up. 

My cuppa was almost undrinkable cold when I hear my doorbell ring. I almost jump out my sofa and spill the tea, but then I breathe deeply and walked over to open the door for him to enter the building. Now I know he has around ten seconds to get to my door. I sure hope he doesn’t know what door I live in because that would be a little creepy. So I open the door slightly to signal I'm here. I can hear his steps on the stairs getting louder and closer. I hear him skip one step when walking up the stairs, is he that anxious? I feel the heat of the blush on my cheeks starting to grow. I laugh under my breath a little because I’m feeling like a bloody teenager again. When I look up again, I find Sherlock standing there, a little bit breathless and damped. His black coat made him look taller and elegant. His curls were dripping and were hanging down his face in a photographic way. My smile felt like it was growing and the blush deepens as he walked slowly closer to me. He took me by surprise as he softly pushed me into my apartment and in complete silence closed the door. His face had raindrops on it, making him look like a lust dream. 

“Sherlock…” I wanted to start talking, to separate him from me and talk about ending this, but his response sent shivers down my whole being.

“Shhh, sexy. It's ok,” He leans in softly into my left ear, the one that was not numbed before class this morning, “You are not going to get caught.” Once again, he surprises me with his correct deductions and his deep, convincing voice. 

“Want me?” Sherlock kept saying this seducing phrases that pulled me away from what I was going to say. 

“Yess,” I hissed as he pushed my whole body towards the wall. The impact was so possessive and delicious… how could anyone say no to this?! 

“Then let's get ongoing. I have something for you.” Sherlock moved away from my personal space and actually talked to me from a normal distance, this could’ve been the first time he has been close, but not so close. It felt nice, intimate. Sherlock pulls me inside my house as if it was his. Our eyes never breaking eye contact. His green, blues eyes are filled with mystery and desire. I wonder what my eyes are saying, but I do hope they are saying what I really want. 

He pulled a chair out from my dining table and place it in the middle of the living room. I was really intrigued and curious about what he was planning on doing. 

“Sit.” Sherlock completely pulled away from me and order me to sit in the chain. I followed his commands. I sat on the chair, facing a blank wall I've been wanting to fill in. Sherlock pulled out his phone and a loudspeaker. I let a small smile grow in my face. 

“You left early that night.” I know what he is talking about, so I agree with a small nod, “I’ll show you what I would've done the rest of that night, ok?” He asked as he was fixing something on his phone. 

“No,” I responded fast and short. 

Sherlock looks at me surprised and curious, for my answer, “Why? What do you want?” Sherlock asks. 

“I want to touch what I see.” My lips had taken control of what words to let slip out. I myself was a little bit shocked when I said this. But Sherlock’s answer and reaction brought me back to earth. 

“We can definitely arrange that,” He paused and placed his phone and the loudspeaker on the table. The sound of the turn-up song vibrated around the room. Sherlock walked towards the light switch and turned it down, leaving the room in a warm dark environment. He started to walk a little slower and sexier to be in front of me, enough for our knees to be touching. Sherlock slowly bent down and locking eye contact he said, “Take my shirt off.” I wasted not a single second and looked down to the purpler shirt he wearing and started to work off the bottoms off his shirt. Our eyes went back to lock contact. 

“Gorgeous.” I let my mouth run free from all the words I've been keeping inside for a long time. Sherlock smiles and chuckles then rub his cheekbones on my cheek. I kind of wished he had kissed me, but if this was just a show… It wouldn’t be allowed. I hope we could forget about that and start from zero. 

His hands rose to my shoulder, more specifically where he left his mark this morning, “Mine.” He whispers. My hands tremble as he let that possessive word roll down his lip and entered my mind. I'm only two bottoms short to finishing his shirt, to reveal his skin. 

“Yours,” I respond and quickly admire the agility of this want. We claimed each other in only one and a half days. His purple shirt fell down on the floor, Sherlock was still getting to me, touching and breathing me in. A little pool if the heat was growing on my belly, just from seeing him on top of me, shirtless. His white, pale skin matched his dark hair and features. No wonder why my brain called him delicious without my consent. Sherlock slowly straightens himself up and started to walk around me, like a ritual, while his hand brushes around my torso. 

“Like this?” Sherlock asks carefully. 

“Yess..” I hissed without hesitation. By the time he completely went around me, he was in front of me again, but his leg was bent on my lap. It became a pleasant type of stress because right now, I was only able to watch and not touch.

“John.. keep looking, but don’t touch.” Sherlock commanded, then added, “Talk to me.” 

“Keep touching me,” I answered, letting all my worries leave through the back door, leaving me in with the only wanton. 

“I won’t stop, captain.” Sherlock exaggerated the word, captain. I guess he like the fact I am in the military, and I deduced he doesn’t know I am only a soldier with an extra year for bad discipline. I really would use this to my advance.

“I command you to take off my shirt, soldier.” I tried to mimic the voice my commander uses when he is stressed, which is always. 

I could swear, I head his hold back a moan, in the back of his throat, “Ye..yes. Captain.” Sherlock responded and expanded his perfect leg across my lap and placed himself on top of me, sitting on me. I could feel his erection getting warmer, and I fucking love that. His pale, but the structured torso was so close to me, the urge to stretch my arms and touch was driving me insane. 

“Sherlock… please.” I pleaded under my breath, but really he could hear me perfectly, for he was so close to me. Our foreheads, centimeters from touching. 

“No…no yet.” Sherlock’s voice was now shaking, I didn't know whit what, but I hope it's with desire. Sherlock’s hands were at the bottom of my jumper, his fingers now ready to grab and pull up. Without hesitation and quite fast, my jumper was pulled out of my body and thrown in the floor. 

Sherlock was breathing quite fast and so was I. It was the perfect background music and the perfect coloration of the night with the orange lights of the house. Makes me want to kiss him…… I catch myself in the thought and stop to look at his eyes, his perfect green, blue eyes. And to my surprise. They are looking at mine.

“I want to do something,” Sherlock says in a whisper. I think I know what he wants to do.

“I order you to do anything you like with me,” I answered with the last of my strength, before breaking myself to him. Sherlock pushed his forehead towards mine until they touched and then lowered his face for our nose to touch. I knew our lips were next, my heartbeat raising up to the climax, forcing me to close my eyes. The next thing I felt was the soft, warm, honey lips pressed on mine. At first, they were just pushed together, I was scared he was going to get bored or awkward, so before he pulls away, I started to move my lips and playing with his lower lips, teasing and touching and bitting. Sherlock finally got the hint and let my tongue into his mouth. It was really breathtaking, so much that I needed to breathe in deeply. As a reflex, mostly, my hands went up to his face and cupped his cheekbones taking him in, grabbing him closer. Not letting go. Sherlock and I were fighting for dominance, but since he was taller than me, I gave in. I completely gave myself to him. Sherlock’s hip rolled on my lap, and ohhh myyyy lorddd. 

“Ahh..” I moaned and served me as a way to catch new air. Because there wasn’t much air between Sherlock and me, I looked up to refill my lungs. When I do, he instantly took action and started to kiss my neck again. 

“Mmmmh.” I groan. My hands lower slowly, through this bare torso. My hand can grabs on his side torso, so beautifully, so perfect. I move my hands up, towards his nipples. When I was about to make him even more breathless, he speaks again, “Said no touching!”

“I give you, the commands,” I respond with the most deep voiced I have ever talked in. As a response, Sherlock rolled his hip again against my lap, which is now practically against my erection. When I feel Sherlock is finished, I put my head back to face him. The second I do, he devours me again. His lips take control, trapping me to him, teasing me. His hand curls in with my haired pull me in from the top of my head. 

My hands are still on his chest, but not moving as much as they wish. Sherlock must’ve sensed this because the next thing he said was, “Don’t stop touching me now,” His commands were orders. My hands started to explore uncharted territory. His hip, his back, his nipples, him, him, him. The heat was building, I was sweating now, creating nice friction for my hands to move in more sexual touch. Our kiss got too messy to continue, so Sherlock started to work his way down. Dropping small kisses on my neck, then on my collarbone, then on my shoulder and lower into my nipples. 

“Ahh... Sherlock..” I moaned. My view was getting close to perfect, with his messy curls on me. It was almost breathtaking. 

“Stand up,” Sherlock answered, in a quite serious voice. My body did what he ordered in a heartbeat. But I needed Sherlock to get off first. But before I would let him leave and move apart, I grabbed on his tights possessively and stood up in one move. I'm… strong… enough to pick up Sherlock and hold him in that position for more than ten minutes. 

“John!” Sherlock exclaimed in the surprised. His legs locked behind my back to hold him in place and he pushed closer to me as a defense reflex way to find safety. Like in the movies, I give him a 360 in my arms and pin him hard on a wall. I push myself to him, trapping him in between. No chances to leave. 

“Fuck.” Sherlock growl. As I raised him up to kiss him everywhere. He had long kissed me now… It was my turn. 

“What,” I said as I landed on the side of his neck biting, and kissing. 

“I was supposed to give you a lap dance. Since you left early.” I stop in shock and look up to him in the eyes, slowly, He does this to everyone?!

“You also do this to them?!” I asked him, dropping everything I was doing to his body. He looked back, locking eyes, shooting a look that tells me…. No, but a different type of no.

“No,” Sherlock responds, finally. I let out the breath I didn’t even notice I was holding, “…in fact, I have never been touched like this before.” He adds. This is all I needed for my brain to let loose. The fact that Sherlock had not been touched like this before, makes me his first. Thus, I will make this memorial, but it also means, I can’t give it to him all the way. 

“Are you still up for a lap dance?” Sherlock brought it back, I, indeed was, One hundred percent, but I would love it in the bed...while he is riding me.

“…In bed.” Sherlock adds quickly. Oh God… he is perfect. 

“I do have to warn you… ” I said, as I collected some of my strengths back in my arms to grab his tights and push Sherlock up, back to where he was before since I let him slip down a little. He appeared to like it, when I throw him up ink the air because he just shouts, “John!” with his perfect, deep voice and gives me the biggest smile, I have seen him use so far. 

“…I’m going to devour you.” 

“Good, because if you don’t… I just wasted thirty dollars on the cab.” Sherlock joked. His laugh was unreliability sexy even when we were as close as we were. 

“Take me to your bedroom,” Sherlock whispers, while his warm hands roamed my cold, naked back.

“Are you sure?” I asked I want Sherlock more than anything, but I don't want him to regret anything 

“Shut up and take me.” He ordered me and I swear… I have never seen anything else sexier. I smile and lightly squeeze his tights in a possessing action. 

“Mine,” I said as I unpinned him from the wall. Still attached to me, his thighs gripped on me and his arms around my neck tights and his whole torso in on me. It hurts, but I love the pain that is caused by Sherlock. 

“Yours,” Sherlock responded. This may be our promise now. While I carried him towards my bedroom, Sherlock delivers a kiss on my lips, and as he was pulling away, I made a quick move to let go of one leg and take that hand to his dark, deep curls and stretched the other hand to catch his whole body on one arm. My arm, that was holding him, gripped in his arse just because it is easier for me to carry him like that, but Sherlock jumped to the surprising feeling and then smiled. My other free hand pushed his lips towards me again. I need to feel his lips against mine. I bit his lower lip, which made him whimper. Then I started to tease him, opening my mouth to let my tongue roam and claim. When Sherlock let me in, my balance tremble and I almost made us fall, but I caught him back in my arms. 

Sherlock giggled and said, “John… I can walk also…” I smiled back and answered, “I need you close.” I can feel all my blood rushing towards my already erected cock. The door of my bedroom was slightly open, just enough to push it and expose my cleaned bedroom. My bed was made and

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You did it! you go to the end! Give yourself a pad on the back, because who will read this trashiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I live for your kudos and comments. Just in case, can we keep the comments positive, please.


End file.
